Chapter 3: Utterly Baffled

Dean's POV

"Where is he?!" I roar into the cell phone.

"I thought you were watching him!" Sam tensely, but calmly, replies.

Growling, I swerve a corner. "He said he had to go to the bathroom! What was I supposed to do, follow him?"

I can almost hear Sam's eye-roll. "Dean, calm down. We'll find him. Besides, he couldn't have gotten that far on foot."

I don't respond immediately, distracted by a few sharp corners I have to turn. "You never know how fast a monster like this can run," I growl deeply.

"I thought you said he wasn't a monster," comes a new voice, Ellen's.

"Yeah, well," I sigh, "he must be some kind of clever creature to give us the slip."

"Concentrate on your driving, I'll call back if we spot him."

I hang up and throw the cell into the passenger seat of the Impala. Somehow, we lost Castiel at IHOP and now I'm driving like a madman around this small town in Nebraska. Good thing I have this great car; if I were in any other vehicle right now, I'd be in a crumpled heap in a pile of twisted metal.

A honking horn rips me from my thoughts. Now is not the time for thinking about my baby. Now is the time for catching this killer.

On my third time circling the town, I get an amazing idea. I make a U-turn and speed toward the park. Why didn't I think of this before?

I find the park easily, remembering the path from a week ago. Once there, I pull up in a parking spot and hop out. I run around screaming for him, hoping that he's just very, very confused and very, very human. However, no such luck.

I curse under my breath and go back to the Impala. What if Castiel is the killer? Despite my intuitions, I could be wrong. Hell, I'm wrong most of the time. I shouldn't have trusted him. Even if he isn't a monster, he's probably insane.

Miserably, I drive back into town. I decide to drive around one more time. Past the antique store, around the bakery, by the cop shop… The coffee shop. I smack myself in the forehead. Now this is more than likely! He said he made the trip twice a day. Maybe he got confused and went back to his routine.

I arrive at the cozy shop and look in the window. I burst through the door and look around frantically. I give a sigh of relief when I see him in the exact place I met him. I stalk over to him and sit down.

He looks confused for a moment, searching around for something. Then, his eyes land on me. His eyes get wide then he tilts his head. "D-Dean?"

"Yea, why did you run off?"

He sighs as if sad and shakes his head. "I saw souls again and I thought… Maybe they would stay if I came back here. But, as soon as you showed up…" He trails off.

"Come on, let's go," I usher him out to my car.

I call Sam and tell him that I found Castiel. For a little while, we ride in silence. Then, suddenly, Castiel turns his head and gives me an accusing glare.

"Why are you taking the souls away?" he asks.

I sputter. "W-what?"

"It's you. I can always see souls when I'm out of your sight. You're doing this. Tell me why."

"I'm not taking… souls away, man." I shake my head and continue, "I don't know what's happening."

He looks taken aback, but seems to believe me. "Alright. So, Cas, tell me about these souls."

"Cas?"

I laugh nervously. "Uh, yea. 'Castiel' is kind of a mouthful. Is it okay if I call you Cas?"

He looks me in the eye, mouths the word 'Cas' over and over, until he finally nods. "I like it," he smiles. "I believe these are called nicknames. I've never had one before."

"Well, today's your lucky day. Now, tell me about these souls."

He gets a blissful look on his face. "They're beautiful. I haven't really told anybody, only Ellen, really. They can be all different colors, all depending on your personality. Some angry people I've seen have a plum colored soul. Oh, but they weren't evil, the color was still pastel. Plum is a strong color that is full of anger and passion. The lighter purples, like violet, say softer words, but are still passionate.

"It's the vibrant colors you have to watch out for. They scream words, not gently whisper them. Like I was explaining to Ellen, my prediction is that they mimic poisonous frogs. Do you understand how they work? They warn predators away with bright colors. Fascinating…"

He spaces out. Like completely. His eyes are glazed over and he's barely breathing.

"I think your soul would be beautiful."

I almost crash.

Chuckling, I sputter, "What was that? My soul would be… beautiful? Dude look at me, I'm as manly as it gets!"

Cas looks over at me with an incredulous look on his face. "There's nothing feminine about the word 'beautiful'. It just means a wonder to behold. Yes, I'm sure a woman's face can be a wonder to behold-"

Not just her face.

"- but so can a star, or an animal. A whole plethora of things can be beautiful."

I nod. "Good point."

"But you don't believe me."

I blink. "Yes, I do."

He shakes his head by a minute degree. "No, you're doing that thing that you tend to do when you lie."

"And what is that?"

"Your brow furrows and your lips… do the weird scrunch-y thing."

I laugh. "The blue steel?"

"If that is what you'd like to call it, then yes." I smile and then give him the blue steel and he exclaims, "Yes! That thing! You do it often, are you aware?"

I chuckle, returning my gaze to the road. "Fully."

"So you make that face when you're lying on purpose?"

"I'm not lying!"

He grins. "Then explain why your face is doing the 'blue steel'."

Grumbling, I turn into the parking lot of the apartment. We've been here for a month, hunting this creature. It skins its victims alive and keeps them alive long enough to walk into a public place to scream for help. Kinda creepy, ain't it? Yea, that's why we're here. I don't think Cas is capable of this, though.

"Come on," I say, getting out of the car. Cas follows me up to the third floor apartment, not speaking a word. Sammy's already here, probably researching. "Sammy, we're here!" I call.

"Dean!" I hear him yell. There is a series of crashes as he emerges into the living room, laptop in the crook of his elbow like always. "I figured it out!"

Castiel looks excited for a moment, "Did you figure out what I am?"

"Uh, no," Sam says. Cas looks crestfallen. "But I figured out what we're hunting!"

"Great! What is it?"

He looks apprehensive. "There's more than one."

I give a heavy sigh.

"You know how all of the victims are young white males?" he continues. When I nod, he says, "Well, there's some folklore here in Nebraska. It says, 'Of all the legends connected with Nebraska, The most chilling of all the folklore talks told in Nebraska is the fable of Rawhide Creek. Though are many variations to the story the common theme is the murder of an Indian by a young white man. Once the tribe hears of their loss friends of the Indian then capture the young man, skin him alive, torture, mutilate him, and eventually kill him. Some feature or landmark near the scene is afterward called "Rawhide" in the victim's memory. As far as it is known, the story first appeared in the Frontier Guardian Newspaper in Kanesville, Iowa in May of 1850, naming the victim as one of the two sons of a Mr. Green."

I nod approvingly. "Sure does sound like some angry spirits."

"Yea, and get this," Sam exclaims. "Mr. Green was complaining of feeling like his skin was ripped off moments before dying. Also, the other son was seeing angry Native Americans weeks before he perished from internal bleeding."

Cas looks startled. "So there are angry ghosts running around killing people?"

"Not exactly," Sam explains. "My prediction is that the ghosts of these Native Americans are killing the descendants of Green. So, we need to find these remaining people and make sure nothing happens to them."

"Awesome!" clapping my hands together, I stride toward the kitchen. "Let's find the graves of these asshats and salt and burn their bones."

"Well, there's one flaw, Dean."

"What's that?"

"The killers of Green were burned."

Stopping in the middle of taking a swig from a bottle of Jack Daniels, I set the bottle down. "So what are we going to burn?"

Sam looks a little unsure, but says, "The tree they were burned on. It was a huge cottonwood. We could try that."

Great, I think. A huge tree. I take a huge gulp of the alcohol. I'm gonna need this.

How was that? This is based on a real story called the Rawhide Creek fable. I did a little research :) Reviews/favs/follows welcome! Thanks!